


soak up the sun

by freezerjerky



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Rutting, Trans Male Character, Trans Newton Geiszler, Yacht, erica and I call it the sugar baby au, it's more like rich husbands au, just SOMEONE likes dressing pretty a bit too much, like if you squint it's sugar baby, sugar baby hermann
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 19:38:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19069315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freezerjerky/pseuds/freezerjerky
Summary: With a huff, Hermann shrugs out of his cover up and lays it over the back of his lounger. He settles his sunglasses, kept on a chain around his neck, onto his face and prepares to relax. He’s honestly not sure what one does on a yacht that’s so exceptional. It’s a boat like any other, though thankfully not making him seasick, but there’s nothing too special about it.“You know,” Newt begins. “Now that you’ve got your shirt off, I’m a bit worried you’re not protected enough from the sun.”in which yacht sex ensues





	soak up the sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skeleton_twins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeleton_twins/gifts).



> For Erica- hope you enjoy.
> 
> Based on an AU Erica and I created. You don't really need much context but the general context is...imagine Newt sells out and and takes a fancy high paying job but then instead of turning evil he chooses to spend all of his money on his husband and living his best life. And Hermann likes to own/wear/use pretty things.

The first half hour is spent completely below deck in the fear that his seasickness medicine will not work and he’ll spend the day completely miserable. Hermann’s not gotten properly seasick since he was a boy, but there’s always a fear and a tendency towards uneasiness of the stomach. Eventually Newt coaxes him up onto the deck with promises of a shoulder rub and bright sunshine, which he’s glad to have. 

The sun is, sure enough, bright and Hermann pulls his cover-up a bit tighter over himself in anticipation of the sunburn.

“No, no, baby,” Newt protests immediately from his seat on a lounger. “That’s what the sunscreen  is for.”

They had both put on an ample amount of lotion upon boarding the boat- yacht. Hermann has to call it what it is and it’s a yacht. Newt promises he’s just renting and won’t buy this damn thing, but he doesn’t trust Newt’s financial choices always, except when they directly benefit him. And that’s not so much trusting as wanting to have nice things for himself. He’s worked hard, after all, and deserves a few nice things now and then, so if Newt chooses to buy him clothing or jewelry or lab equipment, so be it.

Newt’s wearing swim trunks that are both designer and absurd, with pink flamingos emblazoned across them. They’re rather short and tight and Hermann had spend a good while ogling his ass, as is only his right as Newt’s husband. Besides, they’re nothing compared to Hermann’s emerald green swim briefs he’s wearing, which initially felt to be about a size or two too small until Newt reassured him that they’re supposed to fit like this.

“You’re the one wearing a linen shirt,” Hermann says, settling down on the lounger beside him, carefully resting his cane against the table beside it. (After giving a small spin Newt insisted he do so he can see the entirety of his outfit.) With his hair slicked back and his buttons artfully undone, Newt looks simultaneously handsome and like he needs wrecked a bit. There’s a little bit of arrogance in the way he dresses these days that Hermann can’t quite wean either Newt or himself from, even in the comfortable union of domestic bliss.

“If you want me to take my shirt off, all you gotta do is ask, babe.” Hermann can’t see Newt’s eyes properly through his overpriced sunglasses, but he’s certain the bastard is winking at him. “But if I take off mine, you have to take off yours.”

Hermann’s isn’t even a proper shirt so much as a robe, and a fairly sheer one at that, with large sleeves. He’s left his hat below deck but Newt had joked that it made him look like a very elegant old lady, like the type of woman who went to expensive brunches and got wasted on bottomless mimosas. When Hermann had replied by offering to find some more sensible clothes, though, Newt had wholeheartedly protested and said they suit him just fine.

With a huff, Hermann shrugs out of his cover up and lays it over the back of his lounger. He settles his sunglasses, kept on a chain around his neck, onto his face and prepares to relax. He’s honestly not sure what one does on a yacht that’s so exceptional. It’s a boat like any other, though thankfully not making him seasick, but there’s nothing too special about it. 

“You know,” Newt begins. “Now that you’ve got your shirt off, I’m a bit worried you’re not protected enough from the sun.”

“Is that so?” Hermann tilts his sunglasses down his nose and looks over at him. “Would you care to help me apply more, then?” He sits up and reaches for the bottle of lotion situated on the table between them, far from oblivious to the not so subtle placement of a bottle of lube beside it. He appreciates the forethought, even if it lacks elegance in its execution.

“Mhm.” Newt stands. “Why don’t we do your back first?”

After fumbling for a few moments, they manage to get the lounger into a full recline and Hermann settles on his front, resting his chin on his arms. His not so subtle husband moves to straddle him, starting with sunscreen on his upper arms, to his shoulders.

“You could have done that just standing beside me, you know,” Hermann half mumbles. He really shouldn’t complain in this situation.

“Mhm,” Newt hums as he works further down. “But I want to make sure I’m doing a thorough job of it.”

“And rub yourself all over me in the meanwhile.”

“Oh, honey, you know I can’t resist your cute, flat butt.”

The thing about Newt is that he himself is irreverent. He does things how he sees fit, how he wants to do them. When he made an absurd amount of money at his job, when he elevated himself to the status of man of wealth, he’d chosen instead to scale back his hours, to invest money and time into getting married and focusing on his partner. And maybe spending what money he has on absurd things like lingerie or trips on yachts. He’s not elegant about this, either, he’s crass and bold and sometimes a bit of a braggart. The concept of elegance and Newt, even in his nicest suit with a tie, are not compatible.

But Newt has a particular reverence for Hermann. He’s not elegant, but he’s tender and soft- even if he can be just as hard. The hardness comes upon request, it comes when needed. There’s a tenderness to giving someone what they need in the form of teasing or, well, rough handling. And Hermann loves a good share of rough handling.

Hermann wants to protest that this is not a massage but lotion application, but instead he melts into the touch as Newt shifts lower on his torso. He even manages a sound of protest when he feels Newt climb off of him and move to the side of the lounger, still kneeling. In the process Newt makes a small sound of complaint, likely a reaction to creaking bones, likely a reaction to the involuntary sounds of a body that’s not nearly as young as it once was. Still as handsome, still as sturdy and warm and reliable and soft, though, and somehow that seems infinitely more important for a body to be.

Newt tugs down the swimsuit then, and Hermann lets him. It’s not as though Newt was being subtle about his intentions in the least, and it’s not as though Newt won’t stop the moment Hermann requests that he stops. Nonetheless, he feels heat rise to his face in a whole new way when Newt spreads him. He can feel the smirk that’s playing on Newt’s face when he starts to lick at his hole, licking broadly with his tongue and then thrusting, teasing.

“Newton!” Hermann says, after he moans. “What if- what if the man-”

“The man controlling this boat is nowhere near here and I think he knows not to come by. Relax.” Newt sounds annoyed, like the last thing he wanted was to be pulled away from the task at hand.

And so Hermann does. He shifts slightly on the lounger, earning a surprised noise from Newt. It’s not exactly the most comfortable seating for a hardening cock, but he also doesn’t want Newt to stop just yet. Newt is nothing if not enthusiastic about this act, spreading him further to lick and suck at him, making very pleased noises. Half the noises sound as though he’s pleased with himself and not the task at hand, but Hermann doesn’t care what he’s pleased with so long as he feels good. There’s room for some selfishness in their sex life, after all.

He doesn’t even realize he’s biting his lip until he’s doing it hard enough that it almost draws blood. Hermann needs release or relief of some sort soon and he starts asking or begging for just that, the gentlest “please” escaping his lips.

Newt pulls away then, patting Hermann’s ass. “Turn around, you must be aching, hmm?”

When Hermann does turn around, he catches sight of Newt re-settling so he’s more comfortably seated alongside the chair. Hermann hesitates for a few moments, unsure what Newt’s got planned. He’s cheeky enough that he might just continue with the sunscreen and forget about getting Hermann off altogether. Or he could climb onto the lounger with him and ride him until they’re both exhausted. Both options seem plausible.

Instead, Newt pulls the swim trunks the rest of the way down and kisses Hermann’s upper thigh sweetly. His hand wraps around Hermann’s cock, giving a few strokes. Newt delights in the noises Hermann makes and he gives them as freely as he’ll permit, the hiss of first contact, the deeper moans when the pleasure seems to settle into his bones, the surprisingly loud noises as he gives into the need for release, when he gives over to his reliance to Newt for pleasure.

Without further ado, Newt leans forward and presses a kiss to the head of Hermann’s cock, then slowly takes more of him in. He stills for a few moments, and then begins to bob, moaning softly around him. Hermann wonders for a moment if there’s a catch, Newt often likes to come once or even twice before Hermann does, but he also sometimes doesn’t want to come at all. Sometimes it’s all about Hermann’s pleasure and not his in the least. But those moments are very rare.

He weaves his fingers into Newt’s hair, not to guide him or force him, but for an anchor. Also because he knows Newt likes it when he pulls his hair. Also because it’s slicked back and needs to be ruined just a bit and Newt really does look his best with his hair a mess. Hermann moans and tries to think of something to keep from coming too soon. It’s almost at that exact moment that Newt takes him just a bit further, as though he’s been holding out for this exact moment. He nearly shouts, but he’s able to refrain. He should know better than being surprised by now, after all this time, after all this while.

The smugness radiates off of Newt. His entire being is rife with it, how pleased he is with himself. Hermann hates him in that moment, but in the way that means he loves him very, very much. That he’s lucky to have such a partner, such a husband. He rewards the smugness with gripping Newt’s hair, rocking up into his mouth a few times, then a few times more, until he’s coming hard. There’s something so thrilling and yet shameful about coming apart on the sea in the open air. 

When he relinquishes Newt and Newt pulls away, the smugness is just as palpable and growing with the red blush spreading across Hermann’s face. Newt wipes the back of his hand across his mouth.

“That’s because you’re blushing and not sunburn, right?” Newt asks, halfway between cocky and concerned.

“How would I know, Newton?” Hermann answers, attempting to readjust his sunglasses. They’ve fogged up horribly during the encounter.

Newt stands, shaky on his feet, and strips out of his own swim trunks. Good riddance to the flamingos. Even if Hermann helped pick out and purchase the flamingos.

“I’ll finish when I...finish,” Newt comments, straddling Hermann on the lounger. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you do any of the work, princess.”

Hermann snorts and rests his hands on Newt’s hips. When they first started their arrangement, he was thinner than either of them liked, but Newt has since filled out wonderfully. Soft in all the right places (everywhere) and warm to the touch. Hermann’s filled out himself, though he’s not accumulated much more than the softest bit of a belly, but it drives Newt mad. It was foreign to Hermann at first, this little bit extra, this smallest amount of a stomach on his thin frame, he’d always been a gangly and angled man. Now he’s comfortable, cared for, and loved- just like his Newton.

“Do you need anything from me, darling?” Hermann coos.

“Nah, I’m good.” Newt shifts slightly, finding the right angle to rut against Hermann’s stomach. “Yeah, that’s good.”

“You’re so wet,” Hermann says, almost shocked by the feeling of wet cunt on his dry skin. He’s pleased by it, that’s for certain.

“Well yeah, I just had your dick in my mouth.”

Newt looks so handsome, Hermann thinks, chewing on his lip in concentration as he gets the angle perfect. He leans over Hermann to grab the lube, uncapping it to squirt some on his fingers- a perfect aid in stroking his clit. By some miracle, Newt’s voice reaches a pitch of about an octave higher as he exhales small words, as he gasps. The sounds are almost over the top, almost pornographically fake, but Hermann’s accidentally walked in on Newt fucking himself enough times to know that, like in all other facets of his life, Newt is loud.

“I can touch you,” Hermann offers softly, slipping his hands to rest on Newt’s upper thighs.

“Sometimes a man’s just gotta get himself off,” Newt states, sounding determined. “Don’t worry, I’ll be riding that dick into oblivion later today.”

“Such a romantic.”

“I’m taking you on- ah- a romantic boat ride, aren’t I?”

“Apologies.” Hermann smirks at him and grabs his wrist when Newt reaches for the lube again. “Let me help with this at least.”

Teasingly, he lifts Newt’s hand to his mouth, running Newt’s index and middle fingers along his lip before he sucks on them, locking eyes with Newt over his sunglasses as he does. The fingers taste like Newt’s pussy and he moans around them. Hermann feels the first heat of arousal in his stomach, the first hint of hardening again, but it will still be some time until he could possibly go again.

When he relinquishes the fingers, Newt resumes stroking his clit. It’s not enough lubrication that he’ll be able to finish with just that, but that wasn’t really Hermann’s point. Newt’s movements become more frantic as he ruts against Hermann, rocking his hips and teasing his clit until he stills for a moment, then all is lost. The sound Newt makes is guttural and yet high pitched, a distinctive and pleasant noise that’s familiar and yet always desired.

In the next moment, Newt slumps over, pressing his forehead to Hermann’s shoulder. Hermann cards his fingers through Newt’s hair before pressing the gentlest of kisses on any part of his head that he can reach. He waits until Newt’s breathing is more even to speak.

“You never took your damned shirt off,” Hermann says, fumbling with the buttons of the linen shirt.

“It’s a look,” Newt answers. “Keeps me safe from the sun.”

Hermann scowls and Newt must catch the look as he pulls away, because he leans in to kiss him. The scowl easily and completely melts away in the gentle glide of the kiss.

“I can’t believe,” Hermann says, only after he’s pulled away. “You brought me all the way out here, on a bloody yacht, to go down on me.”

“Remember what I just said? I’m a romantic.” Newt carefully climbs off of him, but doesn’t bother putting his swim trunks on just yet. “Besides, I’m not really sure what the fuck people do on a yacht besides screw. I got us some champagne to have later, that’s something, right?”

Hermann rolls his eyes at him and reaches for a towel, wiping off his stomach. When he glances down, he does notice that his shoulders have gone slightly pink.

“I believe you need to finish with the sunscreen before you do anything, unless you want to be banned from skin on skin contact for several days.”

“Banned?”

“Yes, banned.”

“But you’ve been walking around in these teeny tiny swim briefs and I bought you a bikini I thought you could change into later and-”

“What does that have to do with skin on skin contact?” Hermann raises a brow as he grabs the bottle of sunscreen, squirting a large dollop onto his hand.

“Well, babe, it’s going to be you in a bikini, I think we can connect the dots there-”

Leveling a look at Newt, Hermann rubs in the sunscreen on his arms. “Help me prevent this sunburn and then we can talk.”

“That I can do.”

A breeze rushes by then, ruffling through Newt’s now perfectly wrecked hair. There’s very little Hermann wouldn’t do for this man.

**Author's Note:**

> On twitter @ newtguzzler and tumblr @ pendragoff


End file.
